I am Death
by Cid Dante
Summary: Harper tries to say sorry to Tyr after 'Angel Dark, Demon Bright'
1. Default Chapter

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Ok, this is my first andromeda fic…….I'm more into final fantasy 7. I don't own the groovy show or the lovely men folk.

This a short fic about Harper's thoughts at the end of Angel Dark, Demon Bright. And how he goes and tries to apologize to a certain Tyr. 

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"We win."

Yeah, we did. At the cost of over 100 000 uber lives. I thought that would give me a happy joy joy feeling but I feel strangely empty. No, that ain't right. Not empty. Just really numb inside.

Making the bomb was fun, a Harper Original. Who else could claim that they made a freakily huge nebula lighting bomb?

No one. Cause as soon as it was over, I erased the entire thing from Rommie's database. Some other moron can show it to the world but not me.

I was so set on killing them, making them feel my pain but once I did that. Once I saw the bomb go off…it wasn't fun anymore. I felt my pride at the weapon fade away as I saw the ships blow up, one by one. I imagined their screams as the ship blew up all around them. I winced every time I heard the explosions.

My smile, that sick, cruel thing that was plastered on my face. Fell as soon as I realised what I did. I'm not going to be smiling for awhile. I have no right. I saw my reflection. I didn't like what I saw.

I feel really guilty.

I helped bring down a whole heap of freaking ships at the battle of Witch head.

I became what I hated, what I have always tried not to be. A mass murderer. My weapon, my bomb, my creation, is this how the guys who built the H- Bomb felt when they saw it go off? Doubt it.

Maybe Trance should of talked me out of it but I was so eager to kill them. Eager to make a difference. Maybe I am no different from the ubers…no, wait. Not ubers.

Nietzscheans.

I didn't kill a hundred thousand uber or Nietzchean. I killed a lot of humans. Maybe some of them were innocent, some who were just following orders. I'll never really know, not unless I actually take the time to go looking for the names of the lost ones. The names of my victims.

I haven't spoken to Tyr or seen him since the fight. I don't think I could face him…I can't even face my self at the moment.

But, here I am, going along to his quarters to say 'Sorry'.

Sorry for blowing up your people, sorry for even being here. I should of got the slipstream up and working a lot faster.

Maybe talking to Rev would be better or maybe Trance. Confess how I feel to them, instead of talking to the hugely scary Tyr. At least they won't slap me across the room like I was some kind of rag doll.

My footsteps aren't as loud as my heartbeat as I walk down the metal decks of the ship, I'm getting closer to the man's quarters and I am scared. I know he doesn't like me at the best of times but after this?

I stop at his door, hand raised and poised at the small pad that will grant me access to his room and I freeze.

I can't do this. Tears well in my eyes and I blink. They fall from my face and down my cheeks. Why am I crying?! I am not the one who just watched his people die. I'm the sick monster who made the weapon of death.

Dylan said that 'He was death.'

No. That would be me.

Seamus Zelazny Harper.

I turn away from the door and head back up the corridor, it now seems to be miles long. Much longer than what it was before.

Will I ever say sorry to Tyr? For killing so much of his people? I stop and turn round……

Not today.

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Ok….well? I may do more andromeda fics but I dunno. It depends on how well this goes down. 


	2. Showing mercy

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I would just like to thank all those who rated the first chapter, I am death. Let's just say, I was so surprised! I will do a long Harper fic at some point but I got work…and it doesn't let me think about the tales.

I'll give you chapter two. Tyr's thoughts and I warn you….I think I have more in common with Harper! And I know that I am soooo going to not like this fic… 

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"I've never seen an angel before."

That was one of the most truthful statements I have ever made in my life.

Little did I realise that I was looking at the wrong one. The little professor, hiding in the ship's access tubes, was the real angel. Was he afraid to come and face me? 

That small pathetic kludge killed over 100 000 of my people without ever having to see their faces. He did it from the safety of this ship. 

Should I find out the names of those he killed and shame him with them?

No, the crew would have me skinned alive. They wouldn't want me hurting their little engineer, the poor boy.

They would cry out, 'Hasn't he suffered enough?!"

They would not care for my suffering if I told them. Simply saying that I was a lot tougher than the boy, that it was in my nature to allow the deaths of my people.

I should of killed him when I had the chance, when I first laid eyes on him. What stilled my hand? What made me stop from shooting him?

He seemed like he knew his way around the ship and as always, I allowed my need for survival to take over. I should of sabotaged the ship, or the weapon. Perhaps even of killed the little man.

Beka, the woman, almost like a mother to the little man, has told me that Harper feels simply awful at the weapon but I doubt that. He has never liked my people. 

I saw the fear in his eyes as I walked into the ship. His blue eyes wide and his already pale skin paled further. 

I can now say that I know the angel of death. Though, I always thought that he would be taller, stronger and a lot more…more what? Intelligent?

No. The little professor is the most intelligent kludge I have ever had the misfortune of ever coming across. Even Dylan isn't as intelligent or as quick as the boy.

Boy…how can that word even be related to the man now?

I could feel every pulse the ship gave when she released the charges. I could hear the impact from them as my people's ships flew into them. One after another. I gripped the side of the railing, my heart breaking. Every explosion felt like it hammered into my soul. It hurt, though I would never admit to it.

I watched as Dylan gave the order, he looked desolate. It seemed death left a bitter taste in his mouth too. He was betrayed by a Nietzschean, one who was his best friend. Yet, he was still, albeit reluctantly wanting them to join the Commonwealth.

I have learned a few things about Harper through watching and listening to the little man and to others. It seems that he was tortured. He has a healthy distrust of everyone, including the woman who I assumed saved him.

Tears are falling from my eyes, the pain in my heart seems to spread from the organ to the rest of my soul. I have not felt this pain since I watched my mother…but this is different.

Emotions, as I have given this lecture to the ship's crew many times over, are a weakness and a luxury that we cannot afford but why do I sit and wallow in them? Should I not go and seek revenge on the man?

It is very tempting, to beat him to a bloody pulp. A smile faintly forms on my lips, teach him a few lessons about how revenge is always served cold. I am the coldest person he will ever know.

I stand up, hearing footsteps from outside my quarters. I recognize the steps.

It's the little professor's feet. Not quite as bouncy as they usually are. I can hear his heartbeat from even in here.

They're almost like the rhythmic sounds of the Magog drums as they infest a ship.

It's louder and beating at least ten times more faster than what it usually does for him. Perhaps he had to much sparky cola in his systems or perhaps he is ill? Even for a human, he is considered weak and small. Dylan towers above him, so do the women on this ship.

Dylan. The self proclaimed angel of death. He came to me, trying to apologize for what he did. I had tears in my eyes, asking if he truly believed his words. His answer was that he had to. 

Would does the little professor think? What is his answer for killing the innocent lives of my people?

The footsteps stop at my door, the heart beating faster than what it had a few minutes ago. I can hear him breath through the door.

Is he coming in?

I pause, trying to think of all the things that I want to say to him but find that my words will fall upon deaf ears. I hear him walking away, his feet dragging on the metal decks of this warship.

Revenge is first on my mind, I will show the little man that I am not one to be messed with.

Will he ever apologize?

Would I except?

Not today.

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I'm not sure I like this. I really don't think I have captured Tyr's thoughts. Harper was so much easier to do. I may do more with this fic. What do ya think?


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